


The Holiday

by pookiestheone



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:01:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pookiestheone/pseuds/pookiestheone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A bit of a break from <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/837693/chapters/1595957">Mistaken Intentions</a>  although this spins out of MI Chapter Six</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of a break from [Mistaken Intentions](http://archiveofourown.org/works/837693/chapters/1595957) although this spins out of MI Chapter Six

Jimmy trudged after Thomas. _If I have to climb one more hill in the rain or look at another farm house built in 1658 or hear another poem by Lord Alfred Fucking Whatshisface, I'm going to drown myself in the 'lovely lake at the foot of Scaffel Pike.'_

When Thomas had suggested a small cottage in the Lake District as their first holiday together, Jimmy was a bit disappointed. He wanted to try London. A cozy bed and breakfast. Some late night, all night, fucking after coming home from one of those clubs he heard Lady Rose and her friends talk about. Miles away from stuffy, confining Downton Abbey.

_Well, I'm miles away from Downton alright._

He lost his footing and skidded on his ass down the steep path just missing Thomas as he tried to grab at his leg to stop his embarrassing slide.

"Jesus Christ, Thomas, stop laughing and help me up."

Thomas sidestepped down towards him and took his arm.

"I'm sorry, but I saw your face as you flew by."

"Yes, very funny I'm sure. You could have told me we were going to act like mountain goats. I would have brought boots. You're going to buy me a new suit and shoes after this."

"Fine. Let's go back to the cottage and get you dried out."

_Oh yes, the cottage._ First, it had cost them almost a quid - a QUID - for the taxi from the station. "Where the fuck is this place, Thomas? Scotland?" What had he called it? _Simple living in a pastoral setting._ More like hell with no heat, just rising damp. Their first day had been enough of an adventure that Jimmy would have been willing to pay two quid to get to a train to take him back to Downton. When he opened the wardrobe to hang up his clothes a rat the size of a dog flung itself at him.

"Jimmy, it's a mouse. And you scared it. Get down from the bed."

_And the bed. Let's talk about the bed._ The linen was fresh, at least, but the frame itself was a single, not much bigger than a cot, while the mattress overhung it on either side by a good six inches. In the middle of the night he turned over and rolled right off onto the floor. He heard his earlier nemesis the rat scurry away. _Rats can't laugh, can they?_

The next morning he washed and shaved, then got dressed as he waited for Thomas to finish.

"Why didn't you shave?"

"I thought I'd grow a beard for the week we're here. I'm tired of shaving every day."

_I blame Lady Rose and all those bohemian assholes she brings around._

"Really? It'll be like kissing a cactus."

"Perhaps. But think what a beard will feel like in places other than your face."

_Hmm. He has a point._

"If I'm ever lucky enough to get a chance to experience it without suffering a concussion when you knock me off the bed and my head hits the floor."

Now in their third day, as he limped back to the cottage Jimmy looked sideways at Thomas. The beard, such as it was, didn't suit him. It was patchy, like someone had glued some sort of animal hair randomly to his face.

"You know, that beard gives you a more mature look. Especially the bits of grey."

Thomas stopped dead in his tracks.

"There's no grey. Is there?"

"Just a little." Jimmy reached over. "Here and here and here. Sort of reminds me of my grandfather."

"Your ... your what?"

"My grandfather. He was quite a distinguished-looking old gentleman."

Thomas started to walk again.

"I was thinking of shaving it off. It itches more than I expected and it keeps catching on my collar."

"Well, if you want to. Although ... Better yet, I could shave it for you."

"I don't know ..."

"I mean, get the fire going, we strip down, then I lather your face, sit on your lap and ...."

"I don't need to strip to get a shave."

"You really aren't listening, are you. I **sit** on your lap."

"Do you think you can move a little faster. It's like walking with Bates."

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just repeating the warning: **Explicit Sexual Content**

By the time they reached the cottage, Thomas was almost painfully aware that the prospect of Jimmy shaving him - or rather shaving him while sitting on his lap naked - was something that was incredibly arousing. He unlocked the door and almost pushed Jimmy through at the same time as he opened it.

"A bit eager, aren't you? The fire needs to be lit, the water heated ..."

"Just do it," Thomas growled as he reached over and grabbed the front of Jimmy's shirt, almost yanking him off his feet as he pulled him into a kiss that threatened to bruise their lips. His hands reached around and clawed at the back of his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers, while Jimmy fumbled with the buttons on Thomas's fly. Jimmy pulled away, gasping for breath.

"I can't do it if you don't let me go. And if you do that too much longer ..." He nodded down to Thomas's leg, which was jammed up tight against his crotch, moving side to side against his hardened cock . "I'll need the water for something else."

"Well, we can't have that." He let him go and stood back. "But I want you to strip now so I can watch."

"It's a bit chilly ..." His breath caught as Thomas reached forward and cupped him through his trousers, squeezing just hard enough to send a flash of pleasure - _or pain?_ \- up and down his spine.

"You won't have to worry about that for long."

Jimmy peeled off his clothes, letting them drop on the floor around him. _Good Lord, what have I done?_ As he did so, he watched Thomas massaging at his cock though his own clothes before they too ended up on the floor. He turned to the stove and bent over to light the kindling, but bolted upright when Thomas's wet finger slide down along the cleft of his ass and began to tease his hole.

"Stop that. Go get your razor and shaving mug."

"Fine." But as if to emphasise what Jimmy was missing, his finger slid quickly in and out, making him moan.

The kindling caught quickly and Jimmy added wood before partially filling the kettle with water and setting it on top. _This is going to take a few minutes._ Behind him he heard the clatter of the brush against the side of the shaving mug,. He turned just as Thomas began stropping his razor. _Jesus, he's beautiful. Never thought I'd say that about a man. But he is._ He wasn't fragile or delicate or soft or any of the words Jimmy had always associated with beauty; it wasn't just in the way he looked. _No one ever saw it but me because he wouldn't let them. And to think I almost missed out on him._

"How's the water coming?"

"Shouldn't be too long. I only added enough for the bowl. You can probably sit down. I'll grab the towels."

When he came back he could see wisps of steam rising from the kettle spout. He poured enough in a bowl to cover the small towel which he wrung out and draped around Thomas's face, letting it sit for a moment before pulling it away and hanging it over his shoulder. He stood behind him and started to apply the lather.

"Why are you back there?"

"Patience, Thomas. All in good time."

He set the mug and brush to one side and began massaging the lather into Thomas's beard, along the jaw line, down to his throat, up to his cheeks. He wiped his hands on the towel and used his finger to caress the soap from his lips. Picking up the razor he moved to face him, one leg on each side of his as he sat down. As he slid forward he felt the head of Thomas's cock nudge against the shaft of his own. He wriggled slightly and watch Thomas's eyes close to slits.

"Now, remember I'm holding a razor. Probably not a good idea to move around too much." He pushed his hips forward, wedging their cocks together, causing Thomas to arch his back and groan.

"Well, you bloody well better not do that then."

"But I need to be close." As he shifted side to side again, he felt a trickle of moisture ooze from Thomas's cock onto his own.

"You bastard," Thomas laughed as he grabbed his hips and pushed him back a little, but not enough to move their cocks completely apart. "Get on with it or so help me I'll push you onto that rug and make you regret it."

"Thomas." Jimmy reached up with his free hand and raked his fingers through his hair. "You'll never make me regret anything." He tilted his head back and guided the razor in long, gentle strokes down through the beard on his throat, pausing every now and then to clean it on the towel he had over his shoulder. Before moving on he wiped the remaining soap away and leaned in to kiss his Adam's apple. He felt Thomas's grip tighten on his hips and his cock jerk as his lips moved lower and he kissed, then licked the small hollow at the base of his throat while his fingers teased the hair on his chest.

"Don't."

"Why?" This time his lips and breath vibrated the same spot and he dragged his fingernail slowly across his nipple, almost forcing Thomas out of the chair.

"You know what that does to me."

Jimmy sat up and leaned back smiling.

"Yes, I do."

He reached up and tilted Thomas's face to one side, holding him under the chin as he drew the razor down his cheek in one broad stroke, then another, leaving the skin smooth. Without switching hands, he crossed his arms and repeated the same movements on the other side. As Thomas straightened his head, he kissed him, smearing some of the soap onto his own face. His hand tangled once again in Thomas's hair as he eased his head back, breaking his gaze only so he could return to his task, This time the strokes of the blade were short and quick down his upper lip and chin, finishing with upward sweeps to catch the remaining hair below his lower lip. He closed the razor and dropped it to one side, then wiped Thomas's face and his own with the towel. He sat back.

"Much better."

"Is it?" Thomas's voice was almost a croak.

"Just one more thing." He ran his forefinger back and forth across Thomas's lips, teasing them apart before sliding it inside.

"Suck. Right, get it good and wet." His middle finger followed. "This one too." He pushed forward until their cocks ground against one another. He slipped his fingers out and his tongue in. Thomas slouched forward in the chair, stretching his legs out and pulling Jimmy to him.

He almost lost it when Jimmy's hand forced its way down between them, wormed back between his legs and his spit-slicked fingers played at his hole. He had expected the fingers were for Jimmy. _But I'm not going to complain._

Jimmy broke the kiss and sat up just a little, as his fingers continued to stroke and his hips grind.

"Do you have any poetry for this?"

"Wha... What?"

Jimmy slid off his lap and knelt between his legs, forcing them apart as his finger slipped inside.

"Yeah, you know, a poem." His finger sank and twisted.

"Nnnhhh. Uhhhh."

"Not impressed at all. I don't hear any rhythm or metre." _See, I have been listening._

His finger began to move in and out. Shallow, shallow, deep, shallow, shallow, deep, twist and crook.

"How's that for a rhythm?"

"Pre... Pretty good."

"How about a metre? Do you recognise it? What's it called?"

Thomas grunted and lurched as a second finger slipped in.

"Fuckin' perfect."

Jimmy flicked his tongue at the tip of his cock before taking it in his mouth to tease the slit and work the foreskin back and forth. He held it tight at its base then began to slide his fist up and down in time with his fingers, the twist of his fist as it reached top matching the twist of this fingers.

"Je... Jesus!"

_Not much poetry there, Tommy boy._

Jimmy could see the muscles on Thomas's stomach tense and quiver and feel his legs clench around his hand. He stopped.

"What the hell ..."

He pulled his mouth away from Thomas's cock, but still held it tightly.

"Make me a promise."

"Anything, anything."

"Next time, we go to London."

"We can go to Timbuktu if you want. Just don't stop."

Jimmy smiled as he eased his fingers out of Thomas and wrapped them around the top of his balls and pulled down as his mouth and fist doubled their efforts.

"Uh ... uh ... oh, my fucking Go..."

Thomas grabbed the sides of the chair as he pushed himself up and off of it, suspended in mid-air, face contorted, mouth hanging open. He bucked once, almost sending the chair backwards to the floor, and the first spurt hit the back of Jimmy's throat. Thomas's heels slammed to the ground and his back arched over and over, each spasm seeming like it threatened to be his last moment on earth. Finally he sank down, gasping for breath, feeling as if there were hardly any muscles left to hold him together.

Jimmy released him and straddled him once again, sinking down so that Thomas's still-hard cock separated his balls. He rubbed his own cock back and forth across the hair on Thomas's belly before taking it in his hand and beginning to stroke. Leaning forward, he kissed Thomas, biting at his lips as Thomas reached up and twisted at his nipples. _God, you know me as well as I know you._ Thomas pushed his hand away and took over. The rhythm was perfect. He was so close. He slid his mouth away and sank his face into Thomas's shoulder where he began to moan with each stroke. Thomas turned his head and licked his ear, nibbling at the lobe, then darting his tongue in and out. Jimmy shuddered and soaked Thomas's hand as it closed around the head of his cock.

They lay for a moment until Jimmy pushed away and stood up.

"Do you think you might grow a beard again when we go to London?"

~~ End ~~

  



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